


A Tradition to Remember

by prissygirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Book Club, Cursed Storybrooke, F/M, Fluff, Rumbelle Christmas in July, enchanted forest, her handsome hero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 12:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19887457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prissygirl/pseuds/prissygirl
Summary: A book club is only as good as the book it reads. Belle has no idea how important her choice will become.*2020 TEA Winner for Best One-Shot*





	A Tradition to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Rumbelle Christmas in July gift for Jenitosam! This story is inspired by her prompt (cozy, holiday, feast, happy ending) and her adorable Rumbelle fan art: https://jenitosam.tumblr.com/post/170826630289/happy-rumbelle-iversary-everyone-xd-so-happy

_Storybrooke, Present Day_

Mr. Gold stared at the cover of the deep emerald book, the gold embossed print jumping off the cover as if mocking him.

_Her Handsome Hero_

Gold snorted. What utter rubbish.

He glanced up from his armchair as Belle French, Storybrooke’s irresistible librarian, walked into his living room, bringing with her two steaming cups of tea from the kitchen.

“So,” she said, giving him a warm smile as she passed him a cup and gestured at the book in his hands, “what do you think?”

Gold bit back his first comment, not wanting to insult Belle’s choice of book. It would hardly be the best way to start this new chapter of their friendship.

Pun intended, of course.

When Belle had first asked him to start a book club with her, he’d initially been delighted. They’d had many chats about literature over the years, often while he was checking out new reading material or she was perusing his shop’s antique book collection. The chance to make these interactions more regular was a very agreeable one, especially during Storybrooke’s long winter months. The idea of being cozy and huddled up in front of a fire with Belle - he had insisted on holding these chats at his house instead of her drafty old apartment above the library or worse yet, in the even draftier library itself - was even more appealing.

The only downside so far seemed to be the reading material itself. He’d spent years carefully crafting his reputation as Storybrooke’s resident monster. If word got out that the fearsome Mr. Gold not only attended a book club, but one that was reading a book called “Her Handsome Hero”, he’d be laughed out of town.

“Perhaps we could start with another book?” Gold asked hopefully, as Belle settled into the matching armchair next to his. “I’m sure one of the classics would do nicely. What about Dickens?” At the shake of Belle’s head, he felt a bit of panic creep into his voice. “One of the Brontës? I’d even be open to Austen…”

She placed a reassuring hand on his knee. “You’ll like it. I promise.”

He grunted, ignoring the warmth of her hand as it seeped through his trousers and into his leg, leaving the skin beneath tingling. “Care to make a wager on that?”

She chuckled. “I promise it’s more intriguing once you open the cover.”

“I fail to see how anything with a title like this could be intriguing,” Gold grumbled. “Sounds more like a trashy romance or some horrible made-for-TV movie.”

“It’s not like that!” Belle protested. “I read the first few chapters the other day before I realized it was perfect for us.” She scooted her chair several inches closer to his and dropped her voice conspiratorially. “This book is actually a mystery!”

He looked at the cover doubtfully. “Does the butler kill the handsome hero? That would certainly be an enjoyable twist.”

Belle shook her head. “No, I mean the actual book itself is a mystery! I found it in the middle of the Reference section, wedged between two out-of-date atlases. It’s not in the card catalog or the computer system. I even tried to look it up online. As far as the internet is concerned, this book doesn’t even exist!”

Now that was intriguing. He set his tea down and looked at the book more closely. It was clearly very old, but was still in pristine shape, despite being lost between the stacks for who knows how many years. He had many antique books that he sold for hundreds of dollars each that were in worse shape than this.

The cover’s illustrations were still clear and unfaded, an intricate gold border around the book’s edge and an image of a proud-looking knight with long, flowing locks that irritated Gold for some reason he couldn’t name.

He flipped through the first few pages, but there was nothing there to help him either. No publisher, no date, not even a dedication to some beloved family member. The pages simply jumped straight into the story, starting with the ever so cliche “Once upon a time…”

He was about to comment on this when something Belle had said finally registered to him.

“Does this mean you only have one copy?” he asked, realizing for the first time that she had only brought one book.

Belle’s cheeks turned a fetching color of pink. “I’m afraid so. We’ll have to share and um...take turns reading out loud to each other.”

Now it was Gold’s turn to go a bit pink. He could feel his face heat up and hoped his blush wasn’t as obvious as Belle’s.

Not that there was anything to be embarrassed about, he told himself. It’s not like Belle had suggested anything indecent. But somehow, the idea of reading out loud to each other just sounded rather...intimate.

Gold wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Or how he felt about reading aloud. He wouldn’t mind hearing Belle’s beautiful, lilting Australian accent, but there was nothing appealing about his own accent - not fully Americanized, but no longer truly Scottish after all these years - that Belle could want to hear.

She clearly had not thought this idea all the way through.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he returned to a safer topic. “Well, if it’s not tasteless drivel, then what is it about?” he asked, handing her back the book.

Belle’s eyes lit up. “From what I’ve read already, it’s definitely a fantasy novel, but the main focus is on the values of compassion and forgiveness - the qualities that truly make a hero.” She smiled reassuringly. “So definitely not a trashy romance.”

Gold felt slightly mollified. “I suppose that sounds slightly better. I didn’t really figure you for the type to read cheap romance novels.”

A slight blush colored Belle’s cheeks once again. Gold grinned. “Well, at least not in a book club then.”

“Oh, you!” Belle smacked his leg playfully with the book. “You’re terrible.”

His grin widened. “Perhaps you should kick me out of the club in punishment. Who knows what trouble I’ll cause?”

He gave her his most mischievous smile. Belle didn’t even blink.

“That’s exactly why you have to stay. It’s much easier to keep you out of trouble if I can keep an eye on you.” She flipped open the book. “Now, shall we begin?”

Gold sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

_Enchanted Forest, 28 Years Ago_

If Rumplestiltskin had thought his Yuletide tradition of stubbornly refusing to celebrate the holiday would be permitted to continue once Belle arrived in his life, he was sorely disappointed.

The Great Hall had been decked in more festivity than it had seen in the last 300 years combined. Candles had been added to every available surface that his interfering maid could reach. Their soft light gave the Great Hall added warmth, and the holly and berries that Belle had festively arranged around them added a bit of color to the room.

Rumplestiltskin hated it.

His entire home had become redecorated for Yuletide, barely resembling the dreary space he had inhabited for so many years. Everything was festive, except for the master of the castle, and he felt woefully out of place in his own home.

He supposed it was his own fault for not putting his foot down when Belle had hung up the very first mistletoe. But how could he have known that it would get this out of control so quickly?

It was the only explanation he could find for why he now found himself staring down at a book that a beaming Belle held out to him excitedly.

“This has been my favorite book since I was a child,” she explained proudly. “My mother and I used to read it together all the time.”

“Ah,” Rumplestiltskin said awkwardly, noticing the title and the picture of the heroic knight etched on the cover. “How...fitting.”

Either Belle didn’t catch the sarcasm in his tone or she chose to ignore it. “I thought we could read it during our Yuletide celebration.” A spot of pink appeared on her cheeks. “You know, to pass the time, especially on these long winter nights…”

“I see.” Rumplestiltskin stared at the title, his imagination already running wild with speculation. “I’m well aware of your love of books, but...well, this seems like it might be a little uh...risque for a young lady.”

Belle’s lips trembled as she tried to keep back a smile. “You’re worried about a book corrupting me?”

“I just think it would be frowned upon for a noblewoman such as yourself - ”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Rumple, if you were worried about my reputation, you probably shouldn’t have whisked me off to live with you in your castle after insinuating that you were well-endowed.”

Rumplestiltskin blanched. “Ah, you understood that, did you?”

“Yes, and it was very wicked of you.” Belle’s tone was reproving but the merriment in her eyes gave her true feelings away.

“Wicked, you say?” Rumplestiltskin scratched his chin. “Well, seems only fair that I should be punished then.”

Belle’s eyes grew as wide as tea saucers. “Punished?” she asked, her voice slightly higher than usual.

“Oh yes. I should go organize my lab immediately in penance.”

Belle let out the breath she had been holding with a laugh. “Oh, Rumple. You really are terrible.” She dropped the book gently into his lap. “But you’re not going anywhere. If you insist on being punished, we have the perfect instrument of torture right here.”

Rumplestiltskin groaned. It was going to be a long Yuletide.

* * *

Two days into reading the book, Rumplestiltskin’s view had still not changed. If anything, it had gotten worse.

“This is absolutely ridiculous!” he huffed, slamming the book shut.

Belle crossed her arms, openly glaring at him. “What’s so ridiculous about it, may I ask?”

That list was quite long in his opinion, but he decided to start with his biggest complaint. “The hero, for one! This moron is so obsessed with looking brave that he walks straight into danger at every available opportunity.” Rumplestiltskin rolled his eyes. “He barely takes a breath after hearing there’s a dragon in a lair before racing off to fight it.”

“Perhaps you’re just jealous that you’ve never slayed a dragon,” Belle said dryly.

He gave her a wide smile, full of teeth. “I am the dragon, dearie.”

Instead of being intimidated as he’d hoped, she merely patted his leg consolingly. “Of course you are, Rumple.” Her eyes danced with amusement. “An extremely grumpy one.”

He pointed a taloned-finger at her. “Don’t be cheeky. Or I might just conjure up the giant spider from your book and feed you to it.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Belle’s eyes grew wide. “You hate spiders even more than I do.”

“What? That’s just...ridiculous,” Rumplestiltskin stammered. “I’ve never even - where’d you get such a silly idea?” He leaned forward, coming nose to nose with her. “Who have you been talking to?”

Belle burst into peals of laughter, throwing her head back in glee. “Oh, if you could see your face right now!” She held her side, her belly continuing to shake with laughter.

Rumplestiltskin glared at her through narrowed eyes. “If you figure out how to control yourself, I’ll be upstairs in my lab.”

Before he could snap his fingers and disappear, Belle reached out a hand to stop him, her giggles slowly subsiding to an occasional hiccup. “No, wait. I’ll behave, I promise. Let’s keep reading.”

Slightly mollified, Rumplestiltskin opened the book and began reading where he had left off earlier.

It was only hours later in his lab, well after Belle had gone to bed for the night, that he realized how easily she had distracted him from his complaints about the book and deftly maneuvered him back into reading it again in mere minutes.

A slight smile curled on his lips. It seemed he had underestimated that maid of his once again.

* * *

The other mystery, which was why Belle was so insistent on reading the book with him in the first place, finally came to him after several days of intense pondering. In hindsight, he realized how slow he had been to figure it out, since it was clearly the only logical conclusion.

“Ah ha, I’ve got you!” He declared from his seat at his spinning wheel, causing Belle to jump where she had been placing the tea things on the Great Hall’s dining table.

“Wha-what?” she asked, flustered.

He sprang up from the spinning wheel and began to stalk towards her. “I’ve figured out why you wanted to read that book with me.”

Belle blushed. “Oh?”

She was holding her hands together tightly, as if she was nervous about his discovery. But surely Belle knew he wouldn’t hurt her after all this time? Even if he found her joke to be in poor taste. Not that his feelings were hurt, of course. He didn’t care what anyone thought about him, even if he liked Belle more than most people. Knowing what she thought of him was actually very helpful, now that he thought about it. And it’s not like others hadn’t called him far worse.

“Yes, yes, dearie. The parallels are quite obvious, even for an old fool like myself.”

“Parallels?” Belle frowned. “I don’t understand.”

He waved her denial away dismissively. “It’s no use denying it. The sorcerer Gideon met earlier in the book is obviously evil and has been the one pulling the strings all along. Undoubtedly, they’ll face off in a final battle in the end of the story.” He touched his hand to his chest and gave a mocking bow. “I’m sure you couldn’t help but be reminded of him when you met me.”

Belle’s eyes grew wide in understanding. She rushed towards him, catching him off guard as she grabbed his hands in hers.

“You have it all wrong. I’ve never seen you that way.” At his doubtful look, she paused. “Alright, maybe for the first few days...but to be fair, you were purposely trying to be horrible to scare me!”

Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to argue, but Belle plunged on.

“But I know the real you now, Rumplestiltskin. The sorcerer in that book is nothing like you. He’s pure evil, without any feeling or compassion for anyone or anything else.” She stepped a half step closer towards him. “I know that’s not you.”

His mouth felt dry. He should really snatch his hands away from hers. Her palms were warm where they held his between them and her skin was softer than he could have imagined.

“I’ve done many evil things in my life,” he said, trying to stop her from looking at him the way she was now, her eyes shining with something much brighter than friendship.

“I know,” Belle said, still holding his gaze. “I can’t say I approve of all of the decisions you’ve made, but doing bad things doesn’t mean there’s not good in you too.”

“So you didn’t want me to read the book because I reminded you of the evil sorcerer?” Rumplestiltskin asked stupidly.

Belle smiled up at him shyly. “It’s actually the opposite in fact.”

Now it was his turn to frown. “The opposite? Who else in the book could I remind you of?”

A blush began to spread across Belle’s cheeks. She looked on the verge of saying something, but then changed her mind.

“Tea!” she exclaimed, dropping his hands and turning back to the table. “It’s going to get cold if we don’t drink it.”

“Belle, I have magic. I can always just - ”

But Belle had already walked back to the table and was raising the cup to her lips.

He sighed and walked over to join her, picking up his chipped cup and cradling it in his hand.

Perhaps one day he’d uncover the mystery that was Belle of Avonlea. Until then, the only thing he’d be getting to the bottom of was his tea cup.

* * *

Despite all his complaints, Rumplestiltskin was actually a little sad when Belle turned to the last page of the book a few evenings later. Not that he was going to admit that to her, of course. The Dark One had his pride, after all.

It was the last night of Yuletide and they had just finished a delicious feast that the Dark Castle had prepared for them. With their stomachs full of roast hen, pork sausages, and bread pudding, they had settled in their now customary spot on the settee in front of the fireplace to read the last chapter of the book.

Rumplestiltskin had opened some of his most prized red wine from his cellars, which Belle had barely touched because she was so caught up in reading the ending.

“With the evil sorcerer defeated at last, Gideon returned home to his village, grateful to be reunited with his family. Confident that his homeland was no longer in danger, he hung up his sword and shield, content to live a simple life with those he loved for the rest of his days.” 

“Let me guess,” Rumplestiltskin interrupted. “He lived happily ever after?”

Belle looked up from the book, quelling him with one look. “If you don’t let me finish, you won’t find out, will you?”

He pretended to pout, but did as she said. Despite being fairly certain about the ending, he did want to hear her read it.

Not that he cared about the fate of the brave Gideon. But since he had already put in so much time reading the book, it only made sense to finish it.

Obviously.

“Gideon’s countrymen welcomed him home, throwing a giant feast in his honor. Whenever anyone asked about the qualities that made a hero, Gideon would simply smile and say, with all modesty, ‘Anyone can be a hero. You must only do the brave thing and bravery will follow.’”

Rumplestiltskin pretended to yawn. “Boring.”

Belle ignored him and continued reading.

“With his family by his side and his memories to guide him, our hero Gideon…” She paused, her lips quirking upwards. “...lived happily ever after.”

“I knew it!”

Belle tried to look annoyed at him, but ended up bursting into laughter a moment later. “Yes, you’re very clever, Rumple.”

He tapped his nose knowingly. “It’s the second sight.”

She looked unimpressed. “Or the fact that most stories have a happy ending.”

Rumplestiltskin gave her a wolf-like grin. “Clearly you’ve been reading the unimaginative stories.”

Belle smacked him playfully on the shoulder. “Admit it, you liked the book.”

“I didn’t not like it.”

She giggled, pulling her feet up onto the settee. Drawn in by her laugh as if it was a siren’s call, he leaned closer.

“I suppose that’ll do,” she said. “For now.”

They were close. Closer than they had been since he had held her in his arms that day she’d fallen from the ladder. It hadn’t been that long ago, and yet, so much had changed since then.

Even himself.

“Thank you, Belle,” he said finally.

She looked at him curiously. “For what?”

For being herself. For accepting him. For everything.

“For...bringing a bit of Yuletide spirit into the castle.” He wasn’t willing to admit to her just how much it had meant to have her there, especially during the holiday. It was the first time since Bae had left that he’d had someone to celebrate with. “It’s been many years since I last enjoyed Yuletide this much.”

Belle blushed. “Well, I’m glad I could help. It would be a pity if you couldn’t enjoy yourself a little.” She nodded towards the book. “You’ve been so good to humor me by reading my favorite book with me.”

Now it was Rumplestiltskin’s turn to blush. “It’s no matter. I actually haven’t minded…” Seeing the smirk that began to form on Belle’s lips, he hurriedly added, “...that much.”

His addition didn’t seem to deter Belle’s happiness in the least. Perhaps she had spent enough time around him by now that she could tell his heart wasn’t in the teasing.

“I’m so glad! I was thinking, maybe it could become a new tradition for us?”

Rumplestiltskin fought the urge to roll his eyes. Yuletide wasn’t even over and Belle was already planning for next year!

Then again, he supposed it was nice to think that she was already looking forward to spending another Yuletide with him. He could count the people who had looked forward to spending time with him on one hand. It made him happy that Belle was one of them.

However, that didn’t mean he would miss the opportunity to tease her about it.

“You? Want to make reading at Yuletide a tradition?” He put his hand to his heart and twisted his face into a look of surprise. “I’m shocked.”

“Oh hush.” Belle gave him a playful nudge with her shoulder, trying to suppress a smile and failing miserably. “I actually meant that we should make reading “Her Handsome Hero” at Yuletide our tradition.” Her eyes danced with merriment. “I fully intend to continue making you read most nights with me as well.”

Rumplestiltskin let out a deep sigh, throwing his hand over his face. “My life is only struggle.”

Giggling, she leaned forward and pried his hand away. Suddenly, they were face to face, Belle holding his hand between her two smaller ones. He became aware of the soft skin of her hands pressed against his, and a tingling sensation that was spreading through his fingers.

“I, uh…” Rumplestiltskin seemed at a loss for words. Belle was not magical, yet she had the power to reduce him to a babbling fool. “Your hands are very soft.”

“Are they?” Belle licked her lips, leaning even closer. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well...they are.” He gulped. “Maybe you should hold them sometime.”

Belle stopped an inch in front of his face, her face wrinkling adorably in confusion.

“Rumple?”

If he leaned even the littlest bit forward, he could capture those delectable lips between his.

“Yes, Belle?”

“Stop talking.”

Before he could argue, Belle closed the space between them herself, pressing her lips against his own.

His eyes fluttered closed automatically, all thought fading away as Belle filled his senses. Everything was heightened: he could smell the rose-scented bath oils she used on her skin, taste the sweet berries she had eaten earlier that evening, hear the soft sounds she made as she sighed against his lips, and feel her skin vibrating against his own body as she leaned into him.

So caught up in the moment, he didn’t notice the new sensation until it was almost too powerful to ignore. The warm, happy feelings that had been building in his chest were almost completely smothered by an overwhelming need to run. Only when he pulled away slightly did he realize what was happening.

Rumplestiltskin wrenched himself away from Belle, knocking himself off the settee in the process and falling to the floor in a jumbled heap.

Belle’s eyes fluttered open. “Wha-what’s wrong?” An embarrassed blush was quickly spreading across her face. Considering his violent reaction, she no doubt believed he was rejecting her. She was right, but not for the reasons she probably thought.

Ignoring her question for the moment, he checked his hands. They were back to their usual green and gold flecked hue, his long fingernails ending once again in black talons. He could feel the magic coursing under his skin, filling him with power and purpose. The Dark One’s curse was intact.

“It’s still here,” he said at last, relief flowing through him. He looked up and saw Belle eyeing him warily, clutching her knees to her chest protectively.

He barely kept back a groan. How in the world was he going to explain this?

Picking himself up off the floor, he cautiously perched on the end of the settee again, not wanting to spook Belle further.

Avoiding her eyes, he began to tell her his story. His sentences were clumsy at first, full of halting, half-finished thoughts, but soon he felt the truth pouring out of him, as he explained to her the nature of his curse, his mission to find Bae, and why - despite the proof that they were True Love - he couldn’t be with her until he was reunited with his son.

Risking a glance at her face, he was relieved to see nothing but compassion there.

“Oh, Rumple,” Belle cried, taking his hand in hers and pulling it into her lap. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.” Once again, Rumplestiltskin marveled at Belle’s loving nature. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve her love, but he would spend every day from now on proving himself worthy of it to her.

“If there’s anything I can do...to help you find your son…” 

It took every ounce of restraint for him not to gather her up in his arms and kiss her again.

Since he couldn’t do that, he settled for leaning his forehead against hers.

“Belle, there’s something else I need to tell you. I have a plan to find Bae, but it involves another curse - ”

As if on cue, the doors to the Great Hall flew open and his long-time rival and apprentice, the Evil Queen, strode briskly into the room, stopping abruptly as her eyes fell upon them.

Her expression grew into a malicious grin as she watched them leap apart from each other.

“Excuse me, dearie,” Rumplestiltskin drawled, trying to get the situation back under his control, “but we’re in the middle of - ”

Regina chuckled darkly. “Oh, I can see that.”

“...a feast,” Rumplestiltskin finished.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Regina looked down at her nails. “I must be behind on the current slang.”

Before he could come up with a suitable denial, Regina waved a dismissive hand. “But no matter. I’ve come for the Dark Curse.”

Rumplestiltskin blanched. He had thought he had more time, but he supposed he had gotten sidetracked with everything happening with Belle recently. He should have known Regina would move swiftly in his absence.

Unfortunately, this left him in a bit of a quandary. He had arranged for his own comfort during the curse, but no provision had been made for Belle. Regina would no doubt create a nasty cursed fate for his True Love, for no reason other than to spite him, if he did not intervene.

“About our deal, Regina,” he began slowly. “I’m going to need to make sure that Belle is included in our little arrangement. You see, I’ve grown quite used to having a housekeeper and…”

Regina wasn’t fooled in the least. “No deal, Rumple dear. I can ensure that you’re both fairly comfortable, but not together. Take it or leave it.”

Rumplestiltskin's eyes narrowed as he weighed his options. Regina wasn’t likely to budge on this. He’d taught her too well for his own good.

“I don’t have all day,” she said, tapping the toe of her high-heeled boot in feigned annoyance. “Do we have a deal or not?”

He bared his teeth at her. “I suppose you’ll be wanting this in writing?”

Regina’s face broke into a wide grin. “Of course. The pen is mightier than the sword after all.”

Her words broke through Rumplestiltskin’s frustration and he nearly rocked back on his heels. He barely stopped himself from reacting, as his brain raced wildly with an idea.

It could work. It had to.

“Fine,” he growled at her, summoning a parchment and quill. He began to write hurriedly, ignoring Regina as she stalked over to him to peer over his shoulder.

“Don’t forget the - ”

“I think I can handle it,” Rumplestiltskin snapped. “I do this for a living you know.” 

Regina looked rather pleased with herself and he took the opportunity to enact his plan.

He made a point of looking over his shoulder at Belle, who was sitting on the settee with her chin held high in spite of the gravity of the situation. If anyone embodied the virtues of Gideon, it was her.

Heaving a deliberately weary sigh, he looked back at Regina, gesturing helplessly at Belle. “Can’t you do anything for her?” he asked, letting himself sound just the tiniest bit desperate. If Regina thought him a lovesick old fool, then he might as well use that to his advantage.

“I already said she’d be comfortable. What more do you want?”

“I don’t know. I just...well, she loves her books.”

Regina blinked at him. “Books?”

“Yes, they’re these reams of paper bound together -”

“I know what a book is, Rumplestiltskin!” She let out a growl of frustration. “Are you actually asking me to let her take her little book collection along?”

“She really does love them,” he said, knowing how pathetic he sounded.

He exchanged a look with Belle, who seemed to understand, at least on some level, what he was trying to accomplish.

“Books are my true passion,” Belle said suddenly, watching his face for confirmation. “I’d be miserable without them.”

Regina looked to be reaching the limits of her patience. “I’m not wasting magic to transport a castle full of books to the Land Without Magic.”

“More like a library, really.” At Regina’s glare, he backpedaled. “Fine, fine. Can she just keep that one?” He waved a hand at “Her Handsome Hero”, which Belle was clutching tightly. “It’s her favorite. She never shuts up about it. At least give her that much.”

Regina mulled it over for a moment or two before slowly nodding. “Fine, she can keep the book. If only so you’ll shut up about it.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now, can we get this curse on the road?”

Rumplestiltskin fought back a smile as he finished scribbling out their deal on the parchment. It would be enough.

* * *

_Storybrooke, Present Day_

Gold didn’t often admit to being wrong - not that he was often wrong in the first place - but the book club had ended up being one of the best things to ever happen to him.

More specifically, it was Belle rather than the book club itself that was wonderful, but as the book club was an excuse to spend several hours a week with Belle’s undivided attention, it also was quite nice.

The book had grown on him as well over the past month. Though the characters lived in a fantastical world of magic and dragons, they also felt familiar to him somehow. He’d become invested in their triumphs and failures almost as if they were his own.

Perhaps Belle’s kindness was finally rubbing off on him. Or perhaps this was merely more proof that he needed to get out of the pawnshop more.

Even stranger were the moments when he’d felt certain he’d read the book before. It was a fairly standard fantasy with a heroic protagonist that triumphed over impossible odds, so it was hardly breaking new territory in the literary market. Yet something about it seemed like an old friend to him, bringing him comfort and nostalgia all at the same time.

He wasn’t the only one who experienced these odd moments of déjà vu. Belle swore on the book itself that she had never read it, yet she too admitted that she felt a sense of familiarity with the story that she couldn’t explain.

“Perhaps it’s the company,” she said one day, when they both experienced one of these moments.

He snorted, twirling his cane between his fingers. “I’m sure my company is intellectually stimulating, but I doubt it’s given you magical insight into the book.”

She shook her head in amusement. “No, silly. I meant the sense of familiarity and comfort it brings us. Maybe we’re so content together during our reading sessions that we’re projecting those feelings onto the book.”

No one had every described their interactions with him as bringing them comfort. Normally, it was the exact opposite.

But hearing Belle describe his company in that way sent a shiver of pleasure from his toes to his brain, causing the latter to short circuit temporarily.

“That’s...a possibility,” he said finally.

Thankfully, Belle hadn’t pressed the issue and they had gone back to discussing the latest chapters.

That had been several weeks ago however and they were now nearly finished with the book. They had decided to do something special for the last chapter and had decided to mark the occasion by cracking open a bottle of one of his best vintage wines.

There was an anticipation in the air that Gold was unsure of, but that he felt all the way down to his bones. Belle seemed to feel it too, her eyes flicking back and forth between his face and the pages before her.

“Do you, uh, want to read first?” she asked, her tongue darting out to lick her lips in a way that prevented Gold from responding right away.

“Uh, yes. I can...do that,” he said, still hypnotized by the moisture on her lips. “Read, I mean. This book.”

Belle tried to hide her smile. “Well, I’m glad we’ve established you can read. Especially since it’s the final chapter.”

“Aye,” Gold replied, wishing he had just kept his damn mouth shut. He cleared his throat, taking the book from Belle and opening it to the last chapter.

Time flew by as they were swept up into the action of the story. The epic conclusion of the hero Gideon’s final battle with the evil sorcerer - who in many ways was more familiar to Gold than the protagonist - kept them both enthralled, neither relaxing until Gideon finally defeated his enemy with one final swing of his enchanted sword.

As Gold continued to read of the hero’s warm homecoming, a strange sense of anticipation began welling up inside him. He ignored it, trying to focus on the resolution of the story. There was no reason for him to feel any excitement at this point; all the action had finished and the story was winding down, most likely ending in some trite moral lesson.

“Gideon’s countrymen welcomed him home, throwing a giant feast in his honor,” Gold read, his eyes glancing up to see Belle as captivated as himself, sitting on the edge of her seat. 

“Whenever anyone asked about the qualities that made a hero, Gideon would simply smile and say, with all modesty, ‘Anyone can be a hero. You must only do the brave thing and’…” Gold’s vision began to blur, but he fought through it, determined to finish the last page, “...‘bravery will follow.’”

The moment he finished speaking a hot flash of pain ripped through his brain, making him clutch at his forehead in shock. Something was squeezing its way inside his head, worming into his mind. His other hand gripped the book like a lifeline; the sturdy binding the only solid thing he could feel at that moment.

He heard a sharp cry from Belle and he longed to reach out to her, but his vision had not returned. He grasped blindingly towards her, his hand finally finding her shoulder. Her hand came up to cover his, squeezing tightly.

He saw flashes of images: a caste high up in the snow-covered mountains, a spinning wheel near a fireplace, a young woman humming as she bent over a table pouring tea. The glimpses kept coming and going too fast for him to process, yet they somehow felt familiar to him.

Eventually the flashes began to slow, settling on one image in particular. It was the young woman again, but this time she was bent over a book. His heart leapt as he recognized it as the same one he held clutched in his hand. The woman looked up, a beautiful smile spreading across a face he knew all too well.

“Belle?” he whispered.

And just as quickly as they had come, the memories began to recede, quietly settling into the background of his mind as his sight began to return.

He blinked, glancing up at Belle to see her looking at him with the same awe and bewilderment that he felt.

“Rumple?” she asked softly, squeezing his hand even tighter.

“Belle!” He leapt forward, already forgetting about his unhealed leg, and ended up sprawled at her feet. “It worked! The words woke us from the curse!”

A giggle of pure joy escaped Belle’s lips. Instead of helping him up, she plopped down onto the floor beside him, cupping his cheek gently with her palm.

“I knew you could do it, Rumple.”

Feeling lighter than he had in 330 years, he sat up and pulled Belle into his lap, kissing her soundly. They didn’t have to worry about breaking the Dark One’s curse here, which meant he could kiss her to his heart’s delight. In which case, they might not be getting off this floor anytime soon.

Eventually they had to surface for air, but they stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace, neither ready to let go.

Belle let out another giggle from where her head lay on his shoulder. “Aren’t you glad I asked you to join another book club?”

He snorted. “It’s not so much ‘ask’ as ‘force’, my dear.”

She pretended to pout, her lower lip sticking out adorably. Rumplestiltskin decided he had no choice but to kiss the expression right off of her.

Several minutes later and out of breath again, they finally settled down enough to talk through their next moves. They couldn’t let Regina know they were awake so they would have to be careful.

Now that his plans were finally coming together, his old anxiety began to well up within him. He’d come so far to find Bae - but what if, after everything, it still wasn’t enough?

Before his thoughts could go too far down that old road, Belle - her smile soft and gentle - met his gaze firmly with her own.

“Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to find Bae and we’re going to be a family.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips, as if punctuating her point. When he still looked unconvinced, she gave him a hard stare. “We will find your son, Rumplestiltskin,” she repeated emphatically. “And then you’re going to start making up for what you’ve done to the town.”

Rumplestiltskin’s brain took a second to catch up. “Wh-what do you mean ‘make up’?” he sputtered indignantly.

Belle’s smile was warm, but he could see the steel-like determination in her eyes. Whatever she wanted from him, he wasn’t going to like it, but neither was he going to get out of it.

“Well, since you essentially evicted everyone from their homeland, you’ll start by giving people free rent on their homes - ”

“Free rent?” Rumplestiltskin almost choked. “Are you mad?”

“Don’t interrupt,” she scolded. “Yes, I think it’s only fair that you give them free rent - at least until you can find a way to reverse the Dark Curse and take everyone back home. I also think - ”

Rumplestiltskin wanted to laugh. Or cry. He wasn’t sure which. Too much had happened in the last twenty minutes to process.

“Do you think defeating Regina is going to be that simple?” he asked, exasperated. “This is real life - not some fairy tale with a handsome hero who swoops in and saves the day!” He picked the book off the floor where it had fallen and waved it at her. “I’m not Gideon, Belle.”

Belle laid a hand on his, gripping it tightly. “I know you’re not, Rumple. But do you know what you are?”

“In big trouble?” he asked, hazarding a guess.

A startled laugh erupted from Belle. Sensing that perhaps things weren’t so bad as he had thought, Rumplestiltskin let out a small chuckle as well.

The laughter broke a little of the tension between them and allowed him a moment to think objectively. After almost thirty years, he had regained his memory, found Belle, and was on the cusp of locating Bae after 300 years of waiting. If the worst thing he had to do was make reparations to the people of the Storybrooke for what he’d done, was that so bad? As far as karma went, it seemed like a pretty fair deal for being reunited with the two people he loved most in the world.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Belle said, letting out another chuckle. “And I know you’re not Gideon.”

“Then what makes you think I can fix things?” he asked, drawn in by the way Belle’s eyes held his. Perhaps if she - and Baelfire - believed in him, he could eventually become all the things they always wanted him to be.

“Because,” Belle whispered softly, gently stroking his cheek with her hand, a beautiful smile forming on her lips, “you’re my handsome hero.”


End file.
